


Don't They Know? (It's the End of the World)

by MacAttack (MacAttack_Writing)



Category: Fallout - Fandom, Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Fallout Main Quest, Fluff, Goodneighbor (Fallout), How Do I Tag, I promise things get saucy but it's gonna take a while, I'm Sorry, I've been grinding this for a very long time, Jesse is NOT the sole survivor, M/M, People will show up over time, Rescue, Revolution, Running from the past, Saving the World, She comes in later, Side Quests, Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Brotherhood (Fallout), The Railroad (Fallout), main quest, running from people, so slow, so strap in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-10-31 08:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacAttack_Writing/pseuds/MacAttack
Summary: In all honesty, if he hadn't seen the pouch of caps jingling on the man's side, he might not have lifted a finger to help. Why had he helped the man anyway? Nothing stood out about him physically other than the bright red beret he had tucked under his arm.But... that expression was familiar. The desperation he carried in the clench of his fist, the fear etched to the lines of his face. This was a man out of time.This was a man who was running desperately from the end.





	1. Chapter 1

In all honesty, if he hadn't seen the pouch of caps jingling on the man's side, he might not have lifted a finger to help.

Which wasn't _that_ inconsiderate of him, right? He had to look out for himself. It's a dangerous world out in the wastes. 

Why had he helped the man anyway? There was nothing special about him. He didn't scream of wealth or importance, wasn't carrying a particularly valuable gun, no. Nothing stood out about him physically other than the bright red beret he had tucked under his arm. 

But... that expression was familiar. The desperation he carried in the clench of his fist, the fear etched to the lines of his face. This was a man out of time.

This was a man who was running desperately from the end.  
-  
_Run run run run run run RUN RUN RUN RUN_  
Jesse ripped his beret off his head, vaulting over the steeple of a desecrated church. Mutated hounds snarled and howled behind him, calling their masters closer, frenzied by the anticipation of fresh blood. Jesse gasped in air, forcing himself to move faster, to _be_ faster.  
'I'm not going to make it. Oh god, I'm going to die!'  
His thoughts ran panicked through his head as hysteria gripped his lungs, the burst causing him to gasp out for air. Desperately trying to keep sprinting, he willed himself to dodge the bullets whizzing past him. He couldn't die. He can't die.  
'Please, _please,_ if there's anyone out there, I don't want to die!'

Jesse could have blinked and missed him. There was someone in an alley to his left, standing atop a hunk of steel, waving to him. Someone who could help. As if by some miracle willed by God herself, Jesse found salvation in the arms of a frightened child in the body of a full grown man. 

-

MacCready kicked the side of the vertibird, frustrated. He'd been scavenging for hours, and just when he'd thought he'd found something valuable... Sighing, he hoisted himself up to sit on the roof of the broken plane, staring dejectedly down the long roads that made up Boston's greater city area. The whole area was entirely picked over.

Without anything worth selling to bring back to Goodneighbor (the town he'd been posted up in for the last several months) he wouldn't have enough caps to last the month. Hires were getting thin; every idiot who walked the Commonwealth had evidently decided they could take care of themselves. 

He caressed his precious sniper rifle in his lap, giving the gun a once over for scratches or cracks he knew weren't there. He and the damn rifle were practically connected. If anything ever happened to the thing, he'd know immediately. They sure as _hell_ don't call you the best shot in the Commonwealth if you don't know your own gun like the back of your hand. 

He knew there was nothing wrong, but what could he do? If he went back to Goodneighbor, he'd sulk around in the bar for a few hours until good 'ol Whitechapel Charlie dragged his wasted ass back to his room to sulk alone. Eventually, this same routine would suck him dry of caps, and he'd have nothing to send back to...

_'Cut it out.'_

MacCready grimaced and shook his head as if trying to shake away his thoughts.

_'Work_ will _come. I just have to be patient.'_

He didn't realize, however, how quickly that work would rear its head.  
There was an outburst of barking somewhere nearby, and it seemed to be getting closer quickly. MacCready flattened himself against the surface to the vertibird and listened to the crescendo or chaos as it grew nearer and nearer until, finally, he realized a crucial detail. Those weren't just any dogs.

Those were Mutant Hounds.

Pulling his sniper rifle up to his face, he anxiously peered down the scope to see how long he had to hide. Wherever one of the mutts could be found, their nasty mutant masters were sure to follow, and he was _not_ prepared to face those today. What he saw, however, was vastly different than anything he could have anticipated. 

Through the scope, he could clearly see the figure of a young man sprinting away from mutant hounds following just feet behind him.  
"Holy shi- ah, shoot." MacCready rose up from his rifle and squinted at him, before returning back to the scope. The figure was close enough to pick details off of now. 

'He's got caps,' he noted to himself, noting a pouch jangling on his hip. 'I shouldn't get involved. This is way too risky.' Even so, MacCready could feel himself staring at the expression on the man's face. He looked so... terrified. Like knew he was going to die. MacCready felt a twinge of regret in his stomach. He'd seen that expression before, when Lucy... 

He clenched his fists. 

Fine.

Pushing himself up, MacCready carefully stood on the damaged vertibird and waved wildly, willing the man running to see him.  
His mind ran a mile a minute. 'What the hell am I doing? I'm gonna get myself killed.' He ignored his inner turmoil in favor of running to meet the approaching man.

"Hey, buddy! Hurry the hell up, or we'll both die out here," he called out, shouldering his sniper rifle in favor of moving just a little faster. Whether the man was startled or relieved, his face wouldn't show. The only thing MacCready could read was panic. Screeching to a halt, MacCready grabbed the man's arm and dragged him down an off-shoot in the alley.

"Thankyousomuch," the man yelled out in a single breath, his chest heaving from the exertion as MacCready helped him up a banister. 

"Don't mention it, pal," he responded, pulling himself up onto the fire escape, "but if you run off before paying me back, I'll kill you myself." The man wheezed a laugh before grunting, scrambling up to the next banister. MacCready opened his mouth to ask the man his name but was cut off by a shot and a yelp of pain. The man in front of him went down, his head bouncing against the edge of the stairs. MacCready grabbed his body and pulled him through a busted window, dread flooding his stomach as blood bloomed through the man's road leathers.

"WHERE ARE YOU, LITTLE HUMAN? WE KNOW WE HIT YOU." MacCready cringed, the sound of the Super Mutant's voice grating at his nerves. 

"C'mon buddy. We got this far," he whispered, "You can't die on me yet." He tore a strip off the bottom of his jacket and tied it as tightly as he could around the unconscious man's shoulder, where the most blood leaked through his shirt. Dragging him through the empty building, MacCready pulled the man's arm around his neck and carefully navigated through the maze of lumber and broken glass. The growls of the Super Mutants echoed behind him. He had to hurry. 

Within seconds, his search proved successful. He squeezed the two of them into a hole peaking out from behind several rotten planks and set the man down, silently praying this haven he'd discovered was uninhabited. 

MacCready pulled his lighter from his pocket and flicked it on, taking in a partially destroyed but mostly hidden bathroom. Safe. Sighing, he turned to asses the damage. 

The man lying on the ground was tanned, with shoulder-length brown hair knotted and stuck haphazardly into a hastily pulled on beret. The same one he'd been wearing when MacCready first spotted him in his scope. He couldn't have been much older than MacCready himself. 

More important than that, however, was the gunshot wound in his shoulder and slowly swelling lump on his forehead. 

Quicky grabbing stimpacks from his pack, MacCready pulled the man's shirt out of the way to see the extent of the damage.

"Shit."

Duncan forgive him.

The hole gapped back at him, blood leaking from his torn flesh. MacCready wasted no time in lighting the candles he carried and grabbing his tweezers.

He steeled himself.

This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No traveling just yet, they've gotta get to know each other ;)

It was dark. 

Cold.

...

His head hurt.

Jesse flexed his fingers experimentally. Despite a dull throb in his shoulder, he could feel each of digit tingling as blood circulated through them. After a few tests, all of his limbs seemed functional. He sighed, relieved. Now, to figure out where he was.  


"Oh, you're awake."  


Jesse jolted up, his hand instinctively reaching for a shotgun that wasn't there. Taking a closer look, he laughed airily.  


"You're the guy who saved me." The figure chuckled, stepping further into the scant candlelight. It was a small man, about his age, carrying a worn sniper rifle. He smiled warmly.  


"That'd be me. The name's MacCready," he replied, amused. Jesse tried to stand, intending to shake his hand. Though he got his feet under him, he swayed, nausea rolling over him as the throbbing in his head grew to a sharp ache. "Woah, sit back down, man. You hit your head pretty hard. Just try sitting up first." Jesse massaged his aching skull and sat back down, slumping over the broken ceramics of what used to be a sink.  


"I fell?"  


MacCready leaned down to scrutinize the wound dressing he'd wrapped tightly around his head. "You don't remember?" Jesse shook his head before cringing at the sting that ricocheted through his brain. MacCready frowned. "Maybe it's worse than I thought." He sat down beside him. "While we were escaping, one of the Mutants chasing after you managed to catch you with one of their bullets. The shot threw you forward, and you smashed your head against the stairs. You probably have a concussion."  


"Oh man," Jesse groaned quietly. "Sorry for the trouble I've put you through. Thanks for saving my sorry ass."  


"Yeah, you owe me big time. Do you _always_ get yourself into situations like..." MacCready gestured at his shoulder, "well, like this?"  


Jesse laughed heartily. "Way too often for my own good." He grinned, sticking out his hand. "I'm Jesse, by the way. Jesse Reeves." MacCready stared at his hand for a moment, as though unsure if he was going to lash out at him, before taking it up in a firm handshake. A handshake... With the arm that was shot out? As though sensing his confusion, MacCready pointed toward a pile of bloody rags that had been discarded to the side of their small shelter.  


"While you were asleep, I got rid of the bullet and stimpak'd you up. It's a little shoddy, but your arm should work fine." Jesse gaped at him.  


"You used your own stimpaks and patched me up?"  


MacCready rolled his eyes. "You would have bled out if I hadn't," he explained. "Besides, I figured you could just pay me back when you woke up." He eyed the caps pouch on Jesse's hip with thinly veiled interest.  


"Oh! Oh yeah, of course. Sorry." Jesse pulled his bag up to his chest and opened it up, poking through the small makeshift wallet. "Wow, and it's all here. I'm in my right mind to marry you."  


MacCready snickered, his bright blue eyes glinting in the candlelight. "Yeah yeah, you're lucky I'm a good guy. I could have just robbed you and been on my way a few hundred caps richer."  


"Oh, but kind sir!" he gasped, clutching his heart dramatically. "You wouldn't rob a lady as _fair_ as I, now would you?"  


"For god's sake, I've saved the most flamboyant soldier boy to walk the 'Wealth." Jesse grinned and finished counting up the caps he held in his palms before pushing them towards MacCready triumphantly.  


"200 big ones, fresh from the bank." MacCready quickly counted through the coin substitutes before pocketing them, looking contemplative.  


"You know," he began tentatively, "50 more and you'd have enough to hire me.  


"Huh?"  


"I'm a mercenary. You know, a gun for hire? 250 is my hiring rate." Jesse blinked. Scowling, MacCready turned away, worrying at the masking tape he'd wrapped around the butt of his rifle. "Look, just forget I mentioned it. You've more than paid your due."  


"No, wait, you just caught me off guard. Trust me, I could use someone watching my back," he insisted. A pause. He worried momentarily that he'd offended the man.  


"50 more caps means you got the best shot in the Commonwealth on your side."  


Jesse smirked. "Best shot, huh? You sound pretty confident in yourself."  


MacCready turned back towards him, a self-assured smile spread across his face. "Cross my heart."  


"Hope to die?"  


"Oh god, sometimes."  


Jesse laughed out loud, his face glowing. "Alright, it's settled then! We'll write up a contract. Do you have anything you absolutely want from this-" he fluttered his eyelashes "- _buisness relationship_?"  


MacCready chose to ignore him in favor of pulling some paper and pen from his pack. "So," he started, "We split the caps 4-1. I get a fourth of all the caps we get."  


"Counteroffer: we split them evenly."  


MacCready stared at him incredulously. "You're joking. Are you stupid, or just bad at math?"  


"What, you don't like it?  


"No, no, the problem is: I _love_ it. I never get cut that kind of deal. Seriously? Half?"  


Jesse cocked his head in confusion. "Yeah? You're my partner, right? So we split all the loot equally. And I mean all of it, not just caps. It's the least I can do for the guy who saved my life. Besides," he smiled apologetically, "You're probably going to have to help me get to the nearest settlement. I don't think I can walk alone."  


MacCready stared for only a split second before his face broke into a wary grin. "You're sure about this?"  


Jesse nodded. "No one ever said I was very smart."  


Chuckling, MacCready packed his leftover belongings back into his pack and stood, holding out a hand for Jesse to take. "Man, am I glad for it." Jesse accepted his hand and hoisted himself up, MacCready helping to steady him as he swayed.  


"Alright," he declared, "Goodneighbor is closest, right?" MacCready nodded. Heaving his pack up, Jesse scanned the room a final time. "Then let's get going."  


"You lead, I'll follow."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick update today, sorry it’s so short ahah. They’re on their way back to Goodneighbor.

Surprisingly, the trip back to Goodneighbor was quick and uneventful. Yes, surprisingly. It didn't take long for MacCready to realize just how loud Jesse was, what with the man lacking any ability to walk quietly or keep his voice down. After Jesse misstepped into _yet another_ glass bottle, MacCready decided he had to mention it.

  
"How've you managed to stay alive this long?"

"Hmm?"

"You're louder than a bull in a china shop."

  
Jesse shot a confused smile back at him. "What's a china shop?"

  
MacCready groaned. "I don't know, it's a figure of speech! What I'm saying is that you suck at being sneaky."

  
Snickering, Jesse stepped over a collapsed mailbox. "Sound's like you can't handle the Reeves style."

  
"The Reeves style," MacCready glared, kicking a can at Jesse which he playfully kicked back, "is going to get us killed." Despite his frustration, he swallowed his complaints in favor of concentrating on a tin-can war. A few kicks later and he'd gotten himself and the can into the perfect position. Rearing back, he kicked the can full force. As it shot between Jesse's legs, MacCready cheered. "He shoots, he scores!"

  
"Noo!" Jesse bent, pretending to curl up on the road. "I have dishonored my family. The only acceptable punishment... is death."

  
"Yeah, and I'll be the one to kill you if you don't talk a little quieter." Jesse laughed, attempting to stifle it behind his hand at MacCready's less-than-impressed scowl.

  
"Sorry, man. It's been a while since I've had a traveling buddy."

  
"Yeah?" MacCready inquired, "what were you doing before this, anyway?"

  
"I- uh. I was, um... traveling. I'm traveling," Jesse hesitated, his calm demeanor shifting, becoming guarded. MacCready frowned.

  
"That was... convincing. Where're you traveling _to_ exactly?"

  
"Oh, you know. Here, there. I'm a wanderer." Jesse chuckled, his brow creased. MacCready noted the sweat starting to form on the back of his neck. He sighed.

  
"Look pal, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. We've all got our secrets. I don't care if you've killed someone, as long as I get paid." He watched the man's knuckles relax somewhat on the stock of his shotgun.

  
"Alright." He murmured, the tension easing from his body. They walked in silence for a few moments before Jesse glanced up, catching MacCready's eye. "Totally unrelated, but you're not associated with the Brotherhood of Steel in any way, are you?"

  
MacCready rolled his eyes. "Tch. As if I'd ever have _anything_ to do with those nazi scrap heaps." He smirked. "You don't have to worry about me, bud. If I start to feel like a fascist, I'll let you know."

  
Jesse sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Glad to hear it." MacCready studied him in interest, noting the way his attitude had shifted from energetic to exhausted in a mere few seconds.

  
_'What skeletons are hiding in your closet?'_

  
"So, uh," he started, attempting to kill the awkwardness growing in the gap of their conversation, "who _are_ you exactly? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but I've got to look out for myself. How do I know I won't wake up with a bullet in my back?"

  
Jesse shrugged, meeting his eyes. "You don't, I guess. That's the nature of the beast." He rubbed his bad shoulder, massaging the aching muscle with tentative hands. "I am a traveler, though. I don't have anywhere to be but on the road."

  
MacCready shrugged. "Can't argue with that." He watched Jesse roll his shoulder a few times and wince. "Hey, If that shoulder's still bothering you we should probably kick it into high gear. It'd be better to get there without anything permanent happening. Besides," he teased, "we've got to get that thick skull of yours checked out."

  
"Hey!"

  
"Sticks and stones, pal!" MacCready laughed, slapping Jesse's back. "C'mon, let's hurry the hell up. I need a cigarette."

  
"Alright, alright." Jesse grinned goofily. "Let's get this show on the road."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have finally arrived at Goodneighbor and we get to meet some of the people Macca knows!

Finally, after about half an hour of companionable silence, the neon sign garnishing Goodneighbor's door came into view. A godsend, as far as the two travelers were concerned. 

"Oh, thank god." Jesse slumped forward and gripped his shoulder tightly, the aches of both overexertion and a migraine taking their toll.

MacCready smiled halfheartedly. "It sure as hell took us long enough." Kicking away an empty psycho syringe, he gave a sarcastic flourish towards the door. "Welcome to Goodneighbor." Jesse chuckled and closed the distance between them, leaning against the scrap and plywood wall. "Now," MacCready continued, "let's get you to Dr. Amari and get those wounds checked out." As they opened the doors, MacCready cringed. Ah, yep. "Nothing like the scent of urine-soaked garbage to welcome you home," he said with a grimace.

Nodding in reluctant agreeance, Jesse took in the space. They'd entered a courtyard of sorts, in full view of the entire town. Guards and passersby alike stared, each armed to the teeth with a different weapon that could melt the face off your average joe.

"Uh, you might wanna lay off the insults, Mac," Jesse whispered, his gaze darting around at the inhabitants of the town. "I prefer my head *not* blown to pieces."

MacCready rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it, you big baby. Me and the people of this town are thick as thieves." As if on cue, a bald man with beady, shifting eyes sauntered over to the two of them. MacCready grinned as the guy approached and slapped his outstretched hand, an intricate handshake ensuing. "Finn! How's it going, man?"

"Glad to see you back in one piece, MacCready." Finn gave a sly smile. "You still owe me for the last drinking game at Charlie's." MacCready coughed and ducked his head, refusing to meet Finn's eyes. Thankfully, Finn simply scoffed and shifted his gaze to Jesse, expecting MacCready's reaction. Jesse stiffened as he felt the incredulous eyes land on him. "He traveling with you?"

"Yep. My newest employer." MacCready glanced down. "Watch it." He glared pointedly at the knife gripped tightly in the man's hands, hidden behind his back.

"Cmon, MacCready, easy. What do you take me for?" Finn grinned, reholstering the offending weapon on his hip. "I'm an honest man." Holding a hand out to Jesse, he gave a toothy grin. "Name's Finn. I watch the gates around here. Keep the trouble out." He smirked. "Or let it in, for the right price." Looking down, his eyes widened as he noticed the combat shotgun Jesse kept gripped tightly in his hand. "Shit, you don't mess around, huh?" 

"Nah. I'm just hoping no one gives me a reason to use it."

Picking up on the quiet, underlying threat in that statement, Finn swallowed and nodded. "I, uh…" 

A beat passed.

Suddenly, Jesse laughed, the tension relaxing from his face. "I'm just fucking with you, man. I'm Jesse." 

"Jesse? Ain't that a girl's name?"

MacCready groaned. "Alright, that's enough flirting, you two. We've got places to be." Jesse winked goofily back at Finn and shrugged as MacCready dragged him away, watching him return to where he'd initially been guarding the gate.

"Duty calls!" He called, trotting after MacCready through the city square. Faces passed, pocked and marred by years of drug abuse and disease. Jesse watched MacCready greet several as though they were old friends; an old ghoul in a sundress, a guard glaring out into the street, and a young drifter girl swaying along the road, a bottle of jack held in her hand.

After a short walk, the pair arrived in front of a heavily garnished building, adorned with pre-war posters advertising "girls, girls, girls!" and "the magic muscled man!" Jesse chuckled at the irony of both of these descriptions catching his eye. As MacCready opened the heavy doors, Jesse looked up to see the name of the building they had approached:   
The Memory Den.

-

Passing through a short, decrepit hallway, the two men squinted as they stepped into a dimly lit chamber. Large, chair like pods occupied the majority of the space, a few already in use by drifters, their faces vacant. On the far side of the room, a blonde woman draped elegantly over a chaise stood and opened her arms towards MacCready, smiling and strolling forward to envelop him in a hug. 

"Ah, Robert!" She squeezed MacCready tight. 

"Oomph-" MacCready groaned as the woman hugged the air straight out of his lungs. "Hey, Irma." He gently pushed her off and patted her shoulder. "It's good to see you again."

She swatted his chest. "Oh, is it, sniper boy? You haven't come in to see me in weeks! Why, if I weren't good friends with Magnolia, I would have no choice but to assume you'd gone off and died!"

"I'm sorry, Irm, but you know how business is nowadays. Caps are tight and I hardly even have time for a smoke, much less, visitations."

"Ah, but you have time to find a new hookup, eh _passerotto_?" She gave a flourish towards Jesse with her palm. The pair immediately began protesting, Jesse's face turning beat red.

"No, no, ma'am, you've got it wrong-"

"Irma, he isn't- we just met-"

"He saved my life-"

Irma laughed. "Boys, boys! I was only joking, no need to get so very worked up about it," She smiled coyly at Jesse. "In any case, I'm sure you're not just here to chat. What can I help you two with?" 

"He's hurt, Irm. I patched him up as well as I could, but I'm no surgeon. I'd like Amari to take a look if she's around."

Irma's smile faded, and she stepped back, taking in the blood soaked through Jesse's clothes. "Of course, _topolino_. I'll grab her from downstairs; just a moment."

As she hurried off down an inconspicuous set of stairs, Jesse turned to MacCready, bemused. "What'd she call you?"

He sighed. "I have no fuc- ah, fricking idea. I think whoever raised Irma was Italian or something, she calls me lots of things." Nodding, Jesse's attention was brought back to the stairs as Irma and another woman he assumed to be Dr. Amari stepped through the threshold. The doctor ignored MacCready's greeting and made a beeline towards Jesse, grabbing his head and moving it back and forth, watching the movement of his eyes and observing the lump on his forehead. 

"Where were you shot?" She asked directly, a slight accent in her voice.

"On my shoulder, here," he directed. 

"Oh?" She stepped back, and in a flash, slapped where he had directed. Jesse yelped and keeled over in pain. MacCready lept into action and wrenched the woman away from him, shielding him from her.

"What the FUCK, Amari?! You can see he's hurt!"

Amari looked on with a dead-pan expression. "How many stimpaks did you use on that shoulder?"

MacCready glared. "Two, why?"

She nodded. "There's our reason. Your client," she began, snapping on latex gloves, "is still full of shrapnel." She walked around MacCready and pulled Jesse up by his good arm. "The stimpaks would have healed him up unless he was still damaged goods." 

"That doesn't mean you had to hit him!"

She shrugged. "Faster this way." She smiled down towards Jesse. "The doctor will see you now!"


End file.
